A Sprig of Mistletoe
by ElspethElf
Summary: A little christmas gift to all DN fans. Contains Perin, Daine, Numair and a mistletoe. Set during Wild Magic. Standalone


Well, after my long, long hibernation into the dark and scary National Novel Writing competition, I have emerged into my Internet life once again. As it is the holidays and there are calls for celebrating, this is a story I have written as a Christmas gift to you all. Its light-hearted, its fluffy, and its Daine and Numair – knowing me, who else? The idea is drawn from a personal, rather painfully embarrasing, experiance.  
Hope you will enjoy it.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year. (Eat plenty of mince pies and get fat, that's the way to go)

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**A Sprig of Mistletoe**

**by ElspethElf**

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_Perin

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_It was on the night of Yule that Perin the clerk made himself acquainted. He had been studying her from a corner of the hall, working up the courage – and the charm, to talk to her. He rubbed the supple sprig between his fingers, hoping fervently that, in the name of Yule, he would not be flatly refused. 

He had admired her in silence, lurked in her shadows for too long. Oh, there were plenty of rose-tinted, sweet-lipped girls around the palace that would not have minded a charmer like himself, but Mithros did he crave for the horse-mistress's new helper with her odd yet tantalizing ways. He had seen her many times around the stables; he made it his business to know exactly where she would be so he could conveniently pass by. He had seen those blue-grey eyes, seen the promise in her soft lips as she whispered into the ear of her white mare. Yes, she was odd; a girl who talked to the horses as though they could hear her. Dani said that she had the Way with animals, that she could make them do her biddings. Perin didn't know what to make of that, but he did know she was the student of Numair Salmalín, the greatest mage in all of Tortall – so she must be someone special.

Perin was afraid of the black-robe mage. That was partly why he was so apprehensive about approaching the girl. Many a time he wanted to call out, to make himself known as her admirer, but each time he approached, something inside him pinched sharply so that his body shook with nerves and his hands became clammy. He didn't think he'd look so attractive that way.

But tonight was different. Tonight was a time of celebration and festivity. Tonight was when couples kissed and danced and disappeared together into shadowy doorways when no one was looking. Perin did not forget last year's celebration. He did not forget Cathy, a palace maid who had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. She was a sweet girl, easy to please and, he chuckled at the memory, easy to have some fun with.

He shook his head fiercely. He must not assume the same from this girl. He had heard that she was born and bred in a small village, and his hope rose a little; country girls weren't too difficult to woo. But then the many times when her eyes looked away as Perin tried to smile told him that it would take more than his usual approach to win her over. Taking a swig from his cup, he wiped his mouth on his sleeves and moved.

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_Daine_

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It was also on this night that Daine learnt one important thing: that the grip of alcohol must never be underestimated, even if they did come in disguise under the festive name of 'berry wine', and that the deep crimson liquid seemed harmless as they glowed under the rippling candle lights. The K'miri horse-mistress, Onua, had failed to inform her young employer that the drink was in fact more mead than berry, and so it was no surprise that after the third cup Daine could feel her head beginning to swim suspiciously. She though some cold air would clear her senses but decided against the idea when her legs wobbled as she made to stand. 

It was in this state of light-headedness that she saw Perin approach. Her stomach gave a nervous twist, and a jolt of panic griped her. It was bad enough that she really had no excuse to avoid him this time, but she was also not her in full, clear-minded self.

Quickly she glanced around the hall, searching for some diversion. It was not that she disliked the youth, but the way his eyes lingered as he stared at her made her uneasy. She should be flattered by his attention, she supposed. Perin was not a bad-looking boy. His dusty blond hair was floppy and curled at the edges. A cluster of freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks that were often flushed. And when he smiled at her, his face lit up with a boyish mischievousness that was very catching. All in all he was attractive, yet Daine couldn't help but feel the dread of talking to him.

None of her friends were nearby. Onua seemed preoccupied in the company of the King's Champion, Alanna. The two seemed to be debating something heatedly; Daine could tell by the firm glint in the horse-mistress's eyes. _When she's set on something, _Daine thought knowingly. _She's as stubborn as any mule can get. _

Her eyes swept the hall and rested on her mage teacher of not yet a full year. Looking grand as usual in long swishing robe, Numair's dark eyes seemed intent in something he discussed.

She heard someone clear his throat, and looked up meekly. For the first time, she met the clerk's eyes and smiled shyly. He grinned in return and made a small but lavishly executed bow.

'Name's Perin,' he said cheerfully, taking a seat beside her in one casual move.

'Daine Sarrasri,' she murmured, watching him from under her lashes. She saw his body tense for a second as he paused, seemingly fidgeting with something. Then he brought out his hand that held something green and white. Her eyes widened as he lifted the plant above her head. He smiled at her in a rueful, expectant kind of way and said, 'Yule tidings, Daine.'

Daine looked at him blankly. Was she supposed to do something to that? She looked up at the plant in his hand: narrow leaves and a cluster of white berries tied together with a red ribbon. It was a pretty enough gift, if it _was_ a gift, but why in the name of Mithros did he hold it so high in the air? She had paused too long, and saw the sudden uncertainty that crept onto her swain's face.

'W-why are you holding a twig above my head?' she ventured to ask finally.

At first Perin just blinked. And then bewilderment took over his expression as he stared at Daine in disbelief.

'I'm sorry,' Daine said hurriedly, afraid that she had said something dreadful without meaning to. 'Is that…I mean, was it meant to…'

Perin suddenly grinned, his light green eyes teasing. 'Never had a boy hold a mistletoe for you?' he asked with a crooked smile, and was delighted to see her blush. He had recovered quickly enough, he believed, and he was relived to find that it was nothing more than shyness that held the girl back. Shyness and, he was thrilled to take note, a slight tip towards the drunken side. That was not such a bad thing.

'At Yule people kiss under the mistletoe,' he continued, leaning forwards to whisper. He enjoyed the closeness of their bodies. That drew another rush of blood to Daine's face as she took a large gulp from her wine goblet.

Daine knew more alcohol would not result in a pleasant outcome, but the boldness of this clerk took her by surprise and she didn't know how to respond.

'So?' she heard Perin ask and looked up to find him grinning. 'Will you let me have the honour of being the first one to show you how it is done?' And because Daine hesitated, because a shadow of refusal flickered across her face, Perin quickly brought his face towards hers before she could decline.

Daine was surprised at the softness of his lips, and was even more surprised when she found she did not dislike him kissing her. So taken aback, she didn't realise she had unwittingly responded to him, and felt suddenly the eager pressure of his arms around her waist. Perin was enthusiastic now, his mouth keen and searching. His breath smelt of sweet mead, and the scent triggered a fresh wash of dizziness to her head.

_I'm fair drunk! _She thought to herself. _I should stop before I do something foolish._

Perin did not seem to think so.

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_Numair

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_It was the first proper Yule Numair had celebrated at court in years. Ozorne had not been so enthusiastic of the northern traditions and looked at it with disdain, whilst now even living in Tortall, Numair had trouble joining the festive mood. Last year he was away in the cold Scanran boarder as a spy for King Jonathan, so that did not amount to much call for celebration, and the year before that…he could not really remember. Perhaps he _was_ at court two years ago, dancing with this lady and that. It was all too vague in his memory, too unimportant. 

This year was different. This year he had a student, a girl whose 'knack' blossomed into the beginning of something great under his tutorage. He had seen it as soon as he was well enough to talk after his shape-change, seen the copper-coloured potential that burnt inside the girl. He made the right choice then, to offer to train her so she could control her magic.

Now that he was her teacher and spending more time with her than he had done with anyone else, perhaps more than even Varice Kingsford, he felt oddly disinterested in everything else. The dancing held no more appeal to him, although courtesy still made him offer his hand to the ladies of the court.

When he scanned the room to find Daine dwarfed by a youth with a cocky grin that was all too familiar, he was not greatly surprised, although a little defensive, to see the boy bring out a sprig of mistletoe. He recognised the youth; one of the clerks whose eyes constantly strayed whenever he happened to come across Daine, and whose motives, Numair suspected, was far from innocent. He would have to caution her, he thought with a sigh. _Although knowing her, she would probably give me grief for prying._

And it was prying now that carried Numair unconsciously closer to the pair. He studied the boy critically. He knew that coy expression all too well; it was one that was not unfamiliar to his own face during his hazy Carthak days, and it was because of the understanding that Numair found himself, quite unfairly, frowning upon the youth's intentions. Without meaning to eavesdrop, he leaned closer to hear Daine's reply.

'Why are you holding a twig over my head?'

Numair snorted, loudly enough that a serving maid looked at him questioningly. He did not realise she had come to offer him more food. He made to smile in apology but was distracted when he saw Perin lower his head in a kiss.

'No thank you,' he murmured to the maid.

He waited for Perin to ease off, waited for him to leave so he could speak with her – but the boy continued. If anything, he seemed to be taking more out of what was only supposed to be a light kiss under the mistletoe. Numair frowned now; the youth's hands strayed too far for his liking. Feeling both the acute awareness that he should not be witnessing this, and the natural instinct of protectiveness that called for him to interfere, Numair looked away with some difficulty. What Daine did in her own time was her business. It was certainly obtrusive for him to meddle in her personal affairs. And yet…

And yet he could not be rid of the creeping, inevitable feeling of…_curiosity_, he was guilty to acknowledge, towards his young student's social life. That and, of course, the responsibility towards her interests that was required from his role as friend and mentor.

His struggle was saved when he heard Perin murmur, 'you are drunk, Daine. Shall I escort you back to your room?'

That did it. Daine may not know what this implied but Numair certainly did. With swift strides he came forwards, looking more imposing than he had planned. Perin's eyes widened in fear when he saw the mage approach him, and he quickly drew away from Daine.

'Good evening, Master Salmalín,' he said uncertainly, trying to work out what went on behind the mage's dark eyes. Daine turned around, saw Numair standing behind her and gave him a smile, albeit a drowsy one.

'Do you have water?' she asked, and then blinked hard several times. 'My eyes are that funny.'

'You have had too much to drink,' Numair replied with a frown, and looked at Perin. He didn't mean anything by it, but Perin blushed suddenly as if caught guilty of something. He bid a quick goodnight to both Daine and Numair and left.

'Lets get you upstairs. You look like you will fall asleep in your chair,' Numair said, and then added, just jolt her awake, 'was that boy's kiss so very dull?'

Daine gave him a long, drunken look. 'I can throw up all over your shirt, if I wanted to,' she told him. She gripped his arm as he helped her stand. The room spun and she clung onto him tighter. 'Odds' bobs! I'm _never_ drinking alcohol again!' she exclaimed in irritation. Numair chuckled.

'That is good to hear.' Helping her stay on her feet, he led her through the crowded hall towards the door. Outside it was cooler, quieter, and more dimly lit. Following the torches along the staircase wall, they walked through the corridor and stopped at her door.

With a wave of his hand, the torches and candles burst into flames and lit the room brightly. His effort was rewarded by a groan as Daine headed for her bed, saying that it was _too bright_. She collapsed onto the bed with a sigh.

Numair's lips twitched. 'Do you plan to sleep on top of your quilt, or will you get in it?' When Daine waved his question away, he sighed and bent forwards to tug the covers from beneath her. Something fell from her closed hand. He picked it up; it was the sprig of mistletoe, crumpled and drooping now.

Daine's eyes opened, watchful. She saw Numair's face above hers, saw the mistletoe held in his hand. Her mouth curled into a smile that was both silly and sly.

'D'ew wishh to kiss me too, Mashter Shalmalín?' she asked, and then broken into fits of giggles, amused by her daring as much as by her sudden inability to speak without slurring. She thought she saw Numair's face turn red and giggled again, delighted at making the mage blush. 'Well?'

Numair watched her for a second, just watching her face smiling against the covers. Then he said very dryly, 'what do you think of me? I hardly kiss drunk girls.'

Daine's grin changed into a sullen glare, and she turned away, muttering something that was inaudible. 'Besides,' Numair ignored her glower, eyes scanning to make sure she was covered warmly for the night. 'I will not have you throwing up all over me.'

This time he heard her. 'Too right you don't,' she mumbled into her pillow, already falling asleep.

Numair shook his head in defeat and made to get up. Half way he paused, looking at the mistletoe still in his hand. Then, gently, he placed the sprig beside the sleeping girl's pillow. Even more gently, he brushed a curl of smoky hair from her cheeks, fingers touching her skin for a short second.

'Sleep well,' he murmured and got up from the bed. Blowing out the last candle in her room, he cast one final look at her before quietly closing the door.


End file.
